The Black Swan's Violinist
by soup.lover
Summary: Nina might think that she holds all the pressure to give the perfect performance, but she's not the only one. When a young new violinist suddenly finds herself bearing the heavy responsibility of all the intricate solos of Tchaikovsky's great Swan Lake, her musical delivery may well affect the entire ballet production... and maybe even Nina Sayers.
1. Chapter 1

*Disclaimer*: "Black Swan", its storyline, and its characters do not belong to me. Aronofsky is a genius and I could only dream of writing something as brilliant as his work. Only Charlotte Carter and some other minor made-up characters are mine. Plot is drawn from inspiration from the movie.

**Chapter 1**

It was a beautiful Monday morning, and the sun had just risen over Manhattan. A rare shade of peace and calm still surrounded the city, but not for much longer.

Charlotte was pretty much out of breath. She had been up early, and went out jogging. It was the least she could do to keep herself in shape. After all, she spent most of the day at work sitting down. Her arms looked great, but it just wouldn't do for the rest of her body to be all flabby. Not that she was, but exercise was welcome.

She glanced at her watch. She would be late if she didn't get a move on. With a look of newfound determination on her face and a renewed burst of energy, she sprinted the rest of the way back to her apartment, her lean figure whooshing past the sleepy black suits that had begun to emerge.

Back in her apartment, Charlotte hurriedly boiled some water, made some toast and went to rinse off. The flat was small, but that was all right because she lived alone. In the shower, she hummed to herself and looked down at her hands, stretching each finger deliberately as hot water splashed over her body. Swan Lake. The company's first production of the season was in two weeks. She dried herself off and pulled on a pair of jeans and a grey sweatshirt. Comfy.

Minutes later, Charlotte was on the subway with a thermos of tea in one hand, toast in the other, earphones blaring Tchaikovsky, and violin case slung over her shoulders.

"Next stop, Lincoln Center."

Ahead of Charlotte, a girl in a long pink coat with her hair in a neat brunette bun stepped off. She had an upright posture that exuded grace, but at the same time held a strong touch of anxiety. _Must be one of the ballerinas_, Charlotte thought to herself. _Perhaps a soloist._ _They all get antsy this close to the show._

They reached the stage door together, and Charlotte opened it for them both.

"Thanks," said the ballerina. She had a scared look and a soft voice of uncertainty.

"No problem," replied Charlotte with a reassuring smile. "First day on the stage, huh? You have fun out there."

The ballerina let out a small nervous giggle, smiling slightly for the first time. Maybe she found something funny in what Charlotte had said—something ironic, even. She glanced over, nodding at Charlotte's violin case.

"You too," the ballerina said shyly before darting away.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

A variety of instrument cases lay scattered around backstage, some open, some closed. The 40 or so orchestra members were busy getting ready and chattering quietly amongst themselves. Rosin was passed around the string players, white powder smearing their fingers. The sound of warm-up scales filled the air. Fingers were flexed and knuckles were cracked. Polishing cloths were waved around, and bows were tightened. Charlotte had gotten bumped around pretty badly on the crowded subway, and sat in a corner twisting the wooden pegs cautiously, tuning her violin.

Thomas Leroy stepped in from onstage, and everyone fell quiet. He clasped his hands together with that false smile of his.

"Good morning, orchestra! So glad to have you back with the company for this season. As you know, our first production is Swan Lake. You might think that everyone is sick of it by now, but I promise, this is a much more visceral version, stripped down to its bare essentials. Unique."

He paused for dramatic effect.

"I hope you've all been practicing. Such a complicated ballet like this—I know it must not be that easy to play."

There were some murmurs and a few glances were exchanged.

"Great! We start in fifteen, yes?" He looked around expectantly for a moment, then sighed and waved his arm. "This will not do! All your cases lying around like this. We need this space. Out, out. There's room in the back hallway."

And with that, he left to see to his dancers.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

The musicians rustled about, each trying to claim their own small space in the back hallway. Charlotte was just about to head to the pit when she heard a flurry of excitement from further down the hall.

"Maestro's posted a new seating arrangement for this season! It's up! New positions!"

The violinists were the first to rush towards the bulletin board. These were amongst the most cutthroat competitive musicians in the city. Seating positions were no small business. Charlotte followed suit. Anxiously, she skimmed the list. She was only 21, probably the youngest in the whole symphony. Last year she had been stuck in the back of the firsts. It had been slightly disheartening, but what had she expected anyways? At least it had been better than being in the back of the seconds.

Charlotte worked her way up the list, to find that… she was at the very top!

**First Desk**

**Concertmaster: Nick Foster**

**Assistant concertmaster: Charlotte Carter**

Assistant concertmaster! And to think that just a few months ago, she had been all the way in the last desk of the section. In a whirl of anticipation, Charlotte hurried to take her place in the front row.

The pit was just below the stage, with the orchestra's front to the dancers and back to the audience. Maestro gave Charlotte a curt nod, which she returned as she sat down. Once everyone was settled, Nick stood up and played an A note to tune the orchestra.

"Looks like we'll be spending plenty of time together this season, Charlotte," Nick commented as he took his seat beside her. She smiled politely.

Thomas Leroy stepped out from backstage and clapped his hands for attention.

"Lights and curtains, please!" he signaled to the stage manager. Then he looked over at the orchestra.

"Are we all set down there?"

Maestro gave him a thumbs-up and a nod.

"Alright then! From the top! The introduction, and then straight on to the _Allegro giusto_. We're going to try for a straight run-through today." He stuck his head backstage, voice softening up considerably. "Ready, Nina? We're starting."

The theater dimmed, and Charlotte reached over to turn on the small light that had been clipped to the top of the music stand. Maestro lifted his baton, and the orchestra sat up straight, instruments ready. With another swish of the baton, they dissolved into the pretty melody of the introduction. Charlotte felt her bow glide seamlessly over the strings, and her fingers reached out for the higher notes. _Where Rothbart casts his spell on Odette, _she thought to herself.

That was when Nina Sayers spun gracefully onto the stage, shining brightly in a focused pool of clear-cut spotlight.


End file.
